


Shy Kids Look Good

by breedixiebooks



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Coming Out, Flashbacks, Future Fic, I suck at tagging, M/M, Slow Burn, celeb life, closeting, in the future, interview story, larry au, media closeting, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 10:27:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12862590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breedixiebooks/pseuds/breedixiebooks
Summary: Harry Styles is going to give the interview of his life.





	Shy Kids Look Good

SHY KIDS LOOK GOOD

The weather had been quite warm; after all it was the month of June. However, when I first woke up in the morning to the unexpected pouring rain, I had been skeptical about going to work. I was planning on cancelling the whole session for today and had told my wife and mother (who had come to live with us for the month) that I had no intentions to go. My mother, of course, had been furious. She had dragged me to the main door of my own house and had put the keys to my car in my hand and thrown me out. It wasn't because I was going to get fired if I didn't go, I could have called in sick and someone else might have done my work for me. But no, it wasn't that. It was because I was interviewing Harry Styles today, the pop-star my mother had been rooting for, for the past thirty years or so. And so I went, to uncover the glimpse of truth Harry had decided to share with me, after all this time.

 

Till the time I had reached the coffee shop, it had stopped raining and the weather was again, quite warm. After parking my car outside Woodwick Café, I had seen Harry from the glass window, engulfed in his magazine, sipping coffee, his brows knitted in concentration and I could picture the older times, when Harry was still in his twenties, just like my mother. Anyone in my place then, would have been hyperventilating. It wasn't that fans don't do it now; I could still see my fifty-year-old mother going hysteric about seeing him. From what I have gathered from his pictures, he was beautiful back in the day, and that is a lot coming from me, who is oblivious to everything in the world. But age hasn't faded any of his glow till now. As I walked inside the Café, Harry had looked up, giving me the heartwarming smile, my mother would probably drool over, well, even my wife, and I could see that that beauty has just become riper with age.

I had been a little nervous walking up to him but he had continued to smile, with his blue orbs shining. He had then gestured me to take a seat in the booth.  
"Took you long enough," he had said, folding the magazine and putting it on the table.  
"The rain," I had panted, placing the recorder on the table and turning it on.

I had wanted to start then; his eyes were too focused on what he had in mind, to tell me. This wasn't his first interview after all, "but my first with the whole truth" he had said. "I think I won't do justice to all those who have stuck by me through all these years if I don't out the truth now." I had nodded. People did stick by Harry, that's how he had this successful of a career. I had wondered if after this interview he would lose some of that support "Resistance is inevitable" he had shrugged. "All I know is I wouldn't validate myself from anyone's perspective, I won't do that to myself. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion." I couldn't help but go back to the time when Harry's journey had started.  
Harry Styles had risen to stardom at the tender age of sixteen. It was maddening, how fast Harry had climbed the ladder of success, jumping on top of the charts with his debut single, 'Donna', starting the chaotic fever of teenage girls swooning over him. He didn't stop at that, he continued to become hysteria-inducing, social media fueled, world conquering phenomenon, and still continues to hold that record onto himself. Rolling Stones named him to be more famous than Elvis Presley. "I wouldn't ever compare myself to my idol like that, won't be doing justice to him." Harry had humbly commented.

 

Nonetheless, Harry had never taken anything given to him for granted. "I am proud of my career, yes, but it would be low of me to think that doing more than this is not achievable." He had said, while having another sip of his coffee.

Indeed, Styles had worked relentlessly for the first ten years of his life, with continuous eight albums, arena tours and red carpet events, there was not a day in his life where he had been away from work. "It was a lot coming from a sixteen-year-old," He said, "I had just finished my sophomore year, and was doing a summer job at a restaurant as a waiter, and that was all that work had been for me, before singing." Then what had made him go from that to the biggest pop star in the history? "I had been singing one day in the restaurant and Del Wilkins had come in that day, he was in disguise though." Harry had chuckled at the memory. "That was actually my first and last day, singing at the restaurant and the rest is history."

It was only after he was twenty-six, when the man slowed down and had paced his career, releasing an album every two to three years.  
My mother told me how the paparazzi and the fans would stalk him anywhere he was rumored to be. I had wondered what remained then? What remained that no one ever knew? 

"A lot" He had answered.

"And you should order something now, probably a mocha?" I had nodded.

"A lot was never seen by anyone; except whom I had wanted to show it to."

And would that ever be known by any of us?

"Probably." He had shrugged. "At least I am intending to, today."

You did shock the world, yesterday. I had commented.

"I was doing what needed to be done."

After these many years into the industry, why now?

"I had a long conversation with Viktor (his now twenty-five-year-old son) seven years ago, and I had decided at that moment, that I needed to come out."

Yes, but why after having that conversation those many years ago, why now?

"The book." He had said, as he had taken a bite of the cookies in front of us. "I had been writing it. I started the day I had confronted Viktor, and it took me time to complete it. I was only trying to be as honest as possible and that took me these many years." He says. "Viktor has said that I owed it to Louis and the world, and I did, I couldn't be untrue to myself any more than I already had."

Were you untrue?

"I never decide to correct anyone, so maybe I was." He had shrugged again and this time I had pointed out. "A habit I got from Louis, really!" He chuckled and shrugged again, and this time I joined him cackling.

So Louis Tomlinson, is this book really a tribute to him?  
"Not only that, but it is a tribute to us too."

"You decided to come out in your fifties. As far I know, back when you were in your twenties, the world had become a welcoming place for the LGBT community, why not come out then?"

"Many reasons. The people on the top—they abhor the truth. I was sixteen for heaven's sake, media trained and all. The rumors were always a shallow truth, an ambiguous one, that could have been spin in any way anyone ever wanted. They manipulate it. My truth wasn't mine anymore; it was a yarn of mislead actions. They had said that this, being what I was, didn't sell, not that I wouldn't have given up my career for love. I would have, I would've taken up a mediocre job but when you're that young, you are easy to be influenced."

So is this your truth?

"This is as true as it can get."

Louis Tomlinson, the rival singer to Harry Styles had actually been his lover.

"He was never my rival. We were two different people, with two different genre of music, I don't understand the media's need to compare us."  
Had it ever affected your relationship?

"No. We would always have a laugh together. What hurt us wasn't this, it was the pain of seeing each other with escorts."

But you never denied your relationship with any of the girls you were linked to.

"I didn't ever confirm it, too." He had pointed out.

But people did link you two together.

"Yes, they did. I wonder what they would do now. The fun is only in the chase and now they have my truth."

What about the haters?

"Hold that thought" He had said, suddenly standing and collecting his things, "C'mon, let's go to my apartment and continue our chat there."

I had complied.

Harry had insisted on paying for my mocha. I had wanted to argue but thought the better of it; I wouldn't want to make a scene, arguing. We had walked out in the cool wind, the sun over our head. Harry had said that his apartment was a walking distance and true to his words, we arrive there ten minutes later.

What about the haters? I had asked again, in the lobby.

"Don't know. Don't care. As I said, I don't need that kind of validation."

I had nodded and went inside his mahogany walled apartment just as he opened the door and gestured for me to go ahead.

I finally blurted out the question that was burning my tongue, when did you fall in love with Louis?

"As cliché as it gets, the first day I saw him." He chortled. "Its a long story."

Thank heavens, I had got all the time of my life.

"We rose to fame simultaneously, worked under the same label for the first eight years. We did face a lot of things together." He had said, taking a seat on his couch, after bringing me a glass of water.

"I met him after Del signed me to his label. I was in the studio and so was Louis, I didn't know him then, no. I had ended up in the wrong room, which was fatefully his and he was very nervous. He was performing in a proper studio for the first time and he had just started singing when I walked in."  
That was the beginning...

"Surely!" He had chuckled again at the memory.

Are you nervous, speaking about it?

"Of course I am! I have never felt this naked really!" He had said, "Would you like another cup of coffee?" He had asked, after standing up and brushing off his jeans. I had found myself nodding. This was a straining topic. Not because I am homophobic, but I found myself wondering how they made it, with all the pressure and fame that surrounded them. How did they make it so far?

"We were in love with each other, that's how." He had answered, while walking to the kitchen and I had followed him.

"It was love at first sight sorta thing for me." He had said emptying the milk from the jug into two small white cups. "For him too, as far as he had told me." He had shrugged, again.

"I was sixteen when I walked in that door, and I had looked at him as though..." I could see him struggling for an appropriate word. "As though I had come home after a long battle. I had suddenly been filled with so much happiness, and he was suddenly the sun, my sun, and my whole life had revolved around him, since."  
Did you confront your feelings instantly?

He had chuckled lightly, shaking his head, "No."

"It built overtime. We were friends, for almost a year. He would treat me like I was a flower. He was just two years older than me, for heaven's sake. And he would take care of me, defend me when needed; I think that was what confirmed that I was irrevocably in love with him for me."  
I could picture the young sixteen-year-old Harry, with his blond hair and blue orbs, looking at Louis, while Louis, that hazel eyed boy, would look at Harry so softly and run a hand through his hair. Who am I kidding? I wasn't just imagining it, I had seen their photographs all over the internet when I had searched about them yesterday, before the interview. (When asked about those pictures, Harry said, "I was hopelessly in love, my sister would always tease me that I looked at Louis like the sun has shone out of his ass." He cackles at the memory. "When we first rose to fame, we did some of the interviews in the beginning together, and that was the phase when we were still friends. They didn't know I was in love with the boy, so they'd always think of those touches as platonic. I am not saying that they weren't platonic, at that time I had hoped Louis thought they were platonic, and of course they weren't sexual advances either, but they were necessary for me, I had needed to be taken care of, because well, I grew up that way, I had needed that reassurance that he there for me through all the madness.")

But then there weren't any more hugs or touches or interviews for that matter. I hope it didn't end in a year now did it? Did it end with confrontation?

"Of course not! Gay rumors started, that's why." He had shaken his head furiously, running his hand over his now brunet colored hair. "Here, your coffee, let's sit near this window."

We made our way to the big window, that comprised the third wall of the living room; two chairs are put adjacent to the window, opposite to each other.  
I was impressed by how the apartment is well planned out, how everything compliments the other, even the one's that contrast, only enhance each other. There is small fireplace on the opposite wall, the dirty-green sofas placed in the middle of the room with a center piece that was only made of glass, while the wallpaper was brown red bricks.  
"Louis had planned it all, when we used to live together."

And nobody ever found out?

"No." Harry smiles, "We had two houses, separately, which were actually—as we called it— 'The Stunt House'—it was mainly when the paparazzi would follow us or summat. This was our home."

So you've been living here since forever?

"No, I had come back to this place seven years ago, and I'm living here since then."

So, this is the place you disappeared to then? The place you have been hiding in for the past years?

"Very much so."

At that, I had taken a sip of my coffee and halted, taking in the pictures that adored the walls and the gallery. I'd kept in mind to question them later.  
When did you two confess your love?

"After our first year in the industry, I had made it big in pop and he, in country, and well, his management—they needed a relationship or a hook up for the tabloids."

Didn't yours?

"Well, not quite. I wasn't ever told to confirm the rumors—but he was forced to confirm them. I didn't once say I had a girlfriend or anything, but he did. And the first time he did—I didn't hear it from him; I heard it on the news. I remember he gave that interview a week before it was published and my world kind of crumbled that day—I was so sure; he was gay—or at least bi, we never discussed it before that night."

Did you ever tell him? About you being gay?

"That's the thing—I didn't know who I was before I met him—I hadn't dated anyone. I had kissed a girl once, yes, lost my virginity as a drunken mistake, but that was that. I didn't ever consider to label myself. Now too, I don't label myself, but all-in-all, I knew I was at least Louis-sexual." He had laughed.

What happened then, the night you speak of?

"He had come to hang out with me, after we had walked the red carpet to Met Gala, as 'bros'. I had been distant after the interview and so, he inquired why I wasn't being myself, and there was one thing, I could never do to Louis—I couldn't ever lie. And so I told the truth—that he hadn't told me about his girlfriend—when I thought I would be the first person to know. And he had laughed, a heartwarming laugh; if I wasn't so down already by heartbreak, that laugh would have lighted up my whole world. Then he had said—'She is just a stunt Harold, she isn't important.'—he had shrugged off his coat at that—'Plus, I'— he had stopped and looked at me again—'I might be gay.'—and with that my heart had leapt, I felt as if there was a chance. Then, I admitted on being gay too, at least that's what loving Louis made me by the definition of the definers. After that, one night, I had to go on a stunt with one of my supposed flings--they would portray it as that and our close shot had to be taken. The next day, when that article resurfaced, I had a writing session with Louis and Louis hadn't turned up. I waited and waited, then I finally left for his apartment and I had found him drenched in tears. That was the night he had confessed." Harry had laughed, his eyes tearing up, but he quickly blinks the tears away. "He was crying and he had said—'It's pathetic really, how many subtle hints I drop you, and I'm sorry but it hurts to see you kiss her—Why did you tell me you were gay ?' I had a simple answer, because I was and because it was a stunt, and he hadn't believed me, and he went on to ramble how much it had been hurting him to keep it all in for almost two years now. And I don't know how I made the first move, but I had ended up kissing him."  
So you had been together ever since?

"We didn't give it a title for the first month or so. Then everything was falling into place, we had told our respective managements about being gay, which only led to them making even bigger hook up rumors, but we grew numb to it. We loved each other and we knew that, we didn't feel the need to tell the world."  
What about when people started shipping you?

"The articles to our hook ups became proportional to that. His was a relationship, mine were hook ups, but every now and then he'd have a cheating rumor surface about him."

Which did never effect you?

The answer to this had been crypt. "He never cheated. I always knew everything beforehand."

"But he had tried to fight for me. I was portrayed as the man-whore. I grew up not even cussing, and Louis knew that, he knew that my media image somewhere along the lines, did affect me and make my heart crumble. And so he had put a fight against it, he had stormed to their office, with our documents and read them aloud, and told them, we didn't owe shit to them; which, of course didn't stop them and they continued to do it, but they now played with his image more, but he didn't mind that, he had vowed to take the fall for me." Harry's eyes gleamed at that. "Even in our wedding vows."

Wedding?

"C'mon, I'll show you the gallery." With that he had stood up and I followed him to the blue walled gallery. I saw that it is adorned with pictures, pictures of him and Louis: them taking their vows, them taking polaroid pictures, holding a baby, and then them with their families.

One of the photographs in which they seem to be exchanging vows caught my eyes. Louis has tears in his eyes, his brunette hair swept to one side and he is passing a sweet smile to Harry, who is look just as torn up.

"We did get married." Harry had broken my reverie. "When I turned Twenty-three, after we were together for five years, we tied the knot." He had said. "Everything was perfect. We adopted Viktor when I was twenty-five, and then we adopted Edward when I was twenty-eight."

And he took the fall again?

"He took the fall again. Told the media, it was by some Kiwi girl, who had refused to come forth in the media, the next time he said, it was with Rhodes, she pretended to be pregnant and all that."

And you were their godfather, in the public?

"Yeah."

It made sense, why Viktor and Edward would be seen with Harry so much. But did they tell their kids about the false media image?

"They always called me papa and him, dadda." Harry had answered. "But yes we officially told them when Viktor was fourteen and Edward twelve and both of them had looked at us in way that said 'Are you insane? Do you think we don't know?' Good kids, I'm proud of them."

So why did Louis—it was a hard question to get out of my mouth but I did—so why did Louis felt the need to attempt suicide?

This was the moment I had dreaded the whole time and how Harry's expression changed, I had gulped, I had no intentions of hurting the lad.

"When Viktor turned fifteen, we fell apart, me and Louis."

My eyes had widened in shock. WHAT?

"It wasn't because I didn't love him. God! I still love him." he had paused. "But it had drained him, the stunts, the kids. Just how sometimes the media would call them a one night stands outcome. He took all of the blame from me when we were in it together and he was carrying a heavy baggage. Of course the baggage wasn't us, but everything that came with us being together. The fake stunts, rumors and everything. When we adopted Viktor, the press had completely deteriorated his image, but he still went through it for us, and then again he went through it for Edward. He started drinking more, he grew to have anxiety like mine, and then he took resort in drugs. I had started fighting for him at that, tried to change his team and tried everything with the management but they always dismissed it for the sake of TRP. He, on the other hand, he had put up a fight from such a young age, that I don't think anything was left in him anymore, but he held on, he held on for us and that's more than I would ever ask from that beautiful fearless man. But I was too late. I told you right? How he was my sun and my world revolved around him? Overtime, I became his black hole, I sucked the life right out of him. Every fall he would take to save my reputation, I'd let him. They had made me a good reputation, but his, they destroyed and he took resort in those drugs and what not and we fell apart. That was my mistake, I gave up on him when things went hard for me. I should have held on to the love we had, I should have helped him more but I didn't. I took the kids and I went away. See where we are now. He killed himself seven years ago. that man held on for three years without me, and I didn't save him because I was too afraid to fall."  
He did come out though, before his suicide.

"He did. He was the bravest man I knew. Only one I loved."

And at that when I had looked outside, it started raining again.

**Author's Note:**

> okay... so don't kill me?  
> please share it if you liked it. Also let me know if I should write something else too, I have a few stories in mind.


End file.
